


Stardust

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2017 [15]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Implied First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 21:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12374118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Napoleon could have won the heart of anyone in the world, but he chose Illya--and Illya isn’t going to question his good fortune.





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt 15 of Inktober for Writers: Intimacy

Illya had felt resigned for a while that he would be living his life alone. He had accepted it and had embraced it; he knew that he had a very difficult personality, and he had his own trust issues. Betrayal was nothing new to him; it was just simpler not to get emotionally attached—and, of course, to avoid falling in love. Love was something that Illya had declared to be out of reach, and he did not bother to try to pursue it… until he met the one and only Napoleon Solo, that is.

It was the impossible dream—falling in love with someone who was so popular, so handsome, so well-loved that he could have anyone in the world he desired. What chance did Illya have? His rational mind had been betrayed by his own heart, for he found himself ensnared by Napoleon’s charms.

He never dared to hope that, one day, his heart would get exactly what he desired. But a confession over a piano followed by a candlelight dinner gave them both hope and a wish to try—and there was a promise of better things as they traversed this new road together. And the road had led to where they were now—snuggled together beneath the disappointingly thin sheets of a motel bed.

It had been an unseasonably cold night—the kind of night that usually brought back some of Illya’s unpleasant memories of struggling to survive in the war-torn winters of Kiev all alone. But those memories were far from his mind tonight. All he could think of were the lovely, warm thoughts around him—the warmth beneath his hands as he placed them on Napoleon’s back, the warmth he felt from Napoleon’s arms around him, the warmth of Napoleon’s breath on his face, the warmth of their torsos as they felt each other’s heartbeats against their own chests, and the warmth in Napoleon’s eyes as he continued to gaze at him, lovingly. Even his very scent was warm—the bay rum Napoleon loved to wear struck Illya’s nostrils, permanently etching this moment into his memory.

It felt like a dream—and yet, Napoleon’s caresses were real—a gentle reminder that Illya’s days of loneliness were forever behind him now, for he could feel Napoleon’s silent promise with each careful touch that he would never seek anyone else now that he had found love with him. And Illya returned that promise with his own gentle touches, all the while marveling at this reality.

“You could have had anyone in the world you wanted,” Illya whispered, his voice filled with awe. “And yet… you chose me?”

Napoleon kissed him passionately; they could feel their heartbeats increasing in speed, and, despite the cold outside, they were both perspiring. Illya had to catch his breath once the kiss ended.

“I chose you because I knew this would be real,” Napoleon whispered back. “That’s what I was looking for all these years—something real.” He ran a hand through Illya’s blond hair. “I would like this to last—if you want it to, of course.”

“ _Da,_ ” Illya replied, not even needing to ponder over it; he would have asked if Napoleon had not. “ _Da_ , I want this to last.”

They kissed again. Though it was unusual for him, Illya wanted to say something poetic about this moment—that their atoms were those of supernova remnants, and against all odds, that stardust had come together again. But he was too overwhelmed to say it articulately—even Napoleon’s sharp wit was failing him, for he couldn’t say one of his usual witty quips or poetic musings, either.

The kiss deepened, and the passion swept around them like a tornado—a tornado that gathered them together and cast them among the stars once more.


End file.
